music diary: passenger

Meadows. Sometimes, when daydreaming, I fancy I'm in one, running through the meadow, letting my fingertips touch the growing grass. This song makes me, go back, I'm there, there are poppies springing up as I run, happily, freely, twirling as I lift my face up to the sky.
There's is something beautiful that springs when we feel we are free.


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